The Cage
by LexRansom
Summary: Her life wasn't one of fairy tales. So what happens when her life is tangled with undercover detective, Jackson Rathbone?
1. Cage Rage

_Authors note: So I've had this in my computer for a long time. And I've uploaded it in other places, yet never really quite finished it. But I came across it and had a jolt of excitement._

_I do not own Jackson Rathbone, everything else is pure imagination._

_Enjoy :) _

**Cage Rage**

When I step into the cage, I don't consider myself helpless. I don't consider myself to be less of a challenge then my opponent. I don't consider anything. People come to watch, to yell, to bet, and to see if someone is going to dig their own grave. They watch from behind the steel bars, catching the blood, the spit, the violence of it all. They don't care if the people inside the cage hate or despise each other, they don't care if the fight ends unwell. All they care about is winning the bet, and seeing the blood on the floor of the champion and the loser.

People ask me why I fight? And my only answer could be I'm out of my mind.

The truth, I am as insane as the next. I do what I do, because I must. I do it for the money; others do it for the lust and fame of the fight.

Millionaire's, even billionaires find the time to walk out their doors and search for a fighter, to go through the harsh streets and find their next employee, someone that wouldn't be missed. People might look upon this as an underground evolution. I look at it as a job, as something that keeps a roof over my head, food on my table and clothes on my back.

I get in that cage and all I think about is the cash that will be put into my hand in the ending of the fight. I don't think about the blood that will be spilt, or the body that will hit the floor with a thud. All I think about is I will be the last one standing; I will be the winner in the end. I will walk away with the cash and everything else is just a blur.

This is my life, my routine, and who ever or whatever comes between that will be given the same attention as my opponents in the cage.

Underground fighting has been going on for years. It has been in the public's eyes, yet no one has got the balls to stop it. Yes it is illegal but that doesn't stop the people from going, or from fighting. The government has raided many fight joints but the numbers of joints across the world ranges in the thousands. Yes, jail time does come if raided but once you step out of that jailhouse; your employer seeks you out. You are never out of a job, unless you're dead. The death count in fights is anonymous. If one might die in a fight, you remain alive to the world outside the joint. Then you disappear without a clue. No one cares, and no one is going to go out and look for you.

This is as organized as books in a library. Sweetie this is a life sentence, fight to the death or until you die. Some try to get away from it all, you never can, and no one ever will. Big people are connected to this, they'll find you and then they'll put you back in that same cage you told yourself you was getting away from.

It all started for me on my eighteenth birthday. The years had torn me down. My life wasn't one of fairy tales. I had no home to call my own, and the only family I had wanted nothing to do with me. I was like many other teens unbeknownst to the world, homeless and waiting for the day my time was finally going to be up. That day hadn't been different from the last, trying to find a place to set myself in for the night, hoping to find some food to fill my empty stomach.

Then I had been given an opportunity, one that someone in my position could not pass up.

"Make sure to deliver this, on time. And no opening the package or you don't get paid." The man told me, I never caught his name, and it wasn't part of the job. I knew this was wrong, something about him set my alarms on full alert, but a hundred bucks would find me a motel room for a few nights and some snacks. So I ignored my gut feelings and did as I was told.

It was all going along fine. I had reached the address I was given, when everything went to shit.

"Give me the package." A harsh voice rasped from behind. I wasn't able to turn for the man had pulled me to him, grabbing the package.

"That wasn't so hard." He laughed pushing me away making me stumble on my feet.

"Now what is a pretty girl like you doing with something like this?" He asked juggling the package between both hands. I looked him over, definitely a junkie, and whatever was in that package was salvation to him. It was also my own, I needed to deliver that package or most likely I'd be dead.

"Give it back." I growled.

"Feisty. I like that, I haven't had anyone sweet talk me in a while. How about a little fun tonight?" He then pounced on me, smothering me to the stone brick wall, groping me.

With a burst of adrenaline and pure instinct of survival, I pushed out my arms causing him to fall back. He then came after me again, I was young and probably stupid but I wasn't fragile. I knew how to take care of myself. Kicking him hard in the chest I landed a few blows to his face. It seemed to anger him knowing I had the upper hand. He wouldn't tolerate that. He reached into his pocket taking out a knife. It was either him or me I realized, reflecting his blows I landed one hard kick to his chest, pushing him to the floor. He didn't move after that, and with caution I stepped closer to him, pushing him to the side with my foot. And there it was, the knife pierced right in his side. Not knowing what else to do, I calmed myself grabbing the package and finishing up what I had started.

The end of the night had come, and there I stood cold and alone in a dark alleyway hoping to find shelter from the rain. The headlights of a car blurred my vision, and then a sound, a voice.

"I have a job proposal for you." A man says loudly over the rain.

"I'm not interested." I told him moving away from the car and walking to the end of the alleyway leading to the main street.

"Ten grand." That's all he needed to say.

My first fight, I remember well.

Young girl of eighteen fighting a built man of thirty-two. Everyone looked upon me whispering prayers. They booed as they saw me enter the cage, saying the fight would be unfair. How could a girl of eighteen that weighed 115 pounds and height of 5'6 beat someone that weighed two times more and bent his head so not to hit the ceiling? I showed them, I showed them good. Ten grand, I was winning it. I won that fight, fair and square. I then moved up the list fighting every person who wanted my paycheck. Beating them all down to a pulp.

I was not useless or helpless, not close.

At the age of 20, I was crowned champion, no one could beat me.

Now at the age of 23, I still held that crown.

Still got paid ten grand a fight and lived the life.

**The life of a cage fighter.**


	2. Orders and Ideas

I sat in my office with the air conditioner on high, with my feet prompted on the desk, that's where my commanding chief found me.

"Another dead, found this one in a garbage bin of the Astro Casino." He tells me furiously as he throws the folders of the case on my desk.

"Did Detective Anderson contact the Casino owner, question the employees?" I ask and instantly knew I shouldn't have.

"Rathbone, do you think we are that incompetent? We contacted the whole damn casino. Nothing there, the body was found by one of the bell hops." He tells me sitting down in the unoccupied seat across from me.

"Outside job, mafia?" I asked throwing out random marks.

"Maybe, maybe not, all together we have found 10 bodies in the last two months, all seem to be connected. Missing followed by death certificates." He tells me.

I watch as his gray brows lowered in concentration, in his entire thirty years on the force I somehow knew this would be the case that may stick with him.

"Do we have any leads?" I ask hoping for a loophole.

"Do you remember the betting bust?" He asked.

"Well that was before I arrived in L.A, but I remember it, something about Underground Fighting." I tell him.

"Yea, we raided a fighting joint last April, owner named John Bellachii, arrested around thirty fighters, plus some mafia guys. Drug dealers, killers alike go to those fight joints, and I have a distinct feeling that this all connects." He says shuffling to his feet and taking off his tie.

"I'm giving you this case Rathbone. I want you to start by going out there and finding information. Come back to me, and I'll give you farther instructions. I have a gut feeling that those fight joints never really stopped running." He says going to the door and turning back when I called his name.

"What if this has nothing to do with the bodies?" I ask getting to my feet.

"Well then at least will be catching some bad guys." He says with a smirk and leaves my office.

Putting my gun in the holster and putting my holster on, I quickly put on my jacket and head out the door, hoping he was right.

__________________________________________

"Marie, you here?" I called out into the two-story house.

"What are you doing here Ryan?" My sister asked from behind me, I quickly turned around and faced her with a smile. I hadn't seen her in months and her once black hair was now a honey suckle brown. My smile turned to a frown as her gray eyes stared coldly at me.

"What I can't come see my big sister?" I ask watching as she silently rolled her eyes and folded her arms around her chest.

"Auntie Ry." My nephew yelled out to me as he ran into my waiting arms.

"Oh my god, you've grown, are those muscles?" I ask him as he raises his arms and tries to flex them.

"Yup, mommy says I'm the strongest seven year old in the world." He says his smile widening making me laugh as he continued to show me his "muscles".

"Jon, Lucy needs help unpacking the bags. Do mommy a favor and go help her." Marie says smiling at Jon.

"Auntie Ry are you staying for dinner? I need someone to eat the veggies mommy makes me eat." He says whispering into my ear.

"I'll try." I tell him giving him a wet kiss making him instantly wipe it away. He hugs me tightly then runs off to help Lucy.

"What do you want Ryan?" Marie asked me once Jon was nowhere near earshot.

"Nothing just thought I'd check up on you guys. How's Lucy?" I ask referring to her lover.

"Everything is fine." She says her eyes still staring coldly at me.

"It would be better if you'd leave." She says instantly.

"Well, here I know you need help and I've got too much to handle." I tell her handing her an envelope as I started to walk away.

"I don't want your money Ryan. I don't need your help." She says trying to contain her anger.

"You may not need it, but Jon may. I want him to have what we never did." I tell her.

"I am his mother and know what is in his best interest. I don't need someone else telling me what is right for my son." She tells me, her olive skin turning a dark red.

"Stop being stubborn Marie, take it." I tell her turning around once again to head to the door.

"I don't want this, this is blood money." She says.

I instantly stop and turn around.

"What, you didn't think I knew, I know what you do Ryan and its pathetic." Catching the envelope she roughly threw back at me, we stood in silence.

"I don't want to see you again, leave the extra key on the table and leave. I don't want you near my son." And with that the silence was interrupted.

I don't say a word just turn away and walk towards the door. I look back to see that she had left me to leave on my own. I quickly take the extra key out my pocket and place it on the small table, thinking for a few minutes I decided to leave the money as well. I could care less if she kept it or burned it to ashes.

Once I was out the house I took a deep breath and got in my black special edition Mercedes '65.

Taking another breath I turned the ignition on and left my only living family behind.

"Goodbye."


End file.
